


Andromeda's Trail Blazer

by Quariancartel



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Era, Character Study, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Minor Injuries, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quariancartel/pseuds/Quariancartel
Summary: Andromeda was not the galaxy that anyone in the Initiative had thought it would be, and it has been left up to one confused and hesitantly compliant girl to somehow fix the mess that no one knows how to even begin with. She'll deal with arrogant politicians, headstrong team members, distrustful aliens with a chip on their shoulder for travelers, and... well, what else could possibly go wrong?





	1. So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> So this will very soon turn in a romance story mainly focusing on Jaal Ama Darav and my female Ryder, but I wanted to kind of establish her unique character and personality before I got my ticket for the smut train. I know that slow burn stories can be frustrating but I think they're a little more satisfying in the long run.  
> Please come at talk to me @quariancartel on tumblr if you like. :3

“Peebee, Drack? See Lexi for a physical. … Good meeting, everyone.”

Sara Ryder let out a small, frustrated breath as her team members descended the sloped walkway leading down into the central research center of the Pathfinder vessel, the Tempest. Well, calling them team members might be a little too generous. Sara was beginning to feel like her improvised Pathfinder operation was something of a high-tech kennel, picking up the Andromeda galaxy’s strays. It was no wonder that the Nexus authorities were having a hard time taking this crew of patchwork Kett-killers seriously.  
Not that I would have it any other way, Sara mused smugly to herself as she headed down the walkway as well. She was more than ready to clean the irradiated sand and dirt from Eos away from the fine crevices of her exhausted body. Ugh. 

“SAM, please fill the bath in my quarters with the hottest water this ship can manage.”  
“Yes, Pathfinder.” The soft, robotic voice chimed away in the back of her head, as always.

The Andromeda Initiative.  
It had been a great promise, a great dream, a great adventure. Six hundred or so odd years drifting across deep space with thousands of people in cryogenic sleep, waiting to wake up on the other side in a new galaxy, a new life-- a new everything, really. Thinking about it, the whole thing on a grand scale still made Sara’s skin prickle with nervous excitement. 

No one had exactly been surprised when they arrived and right off the bat it wasn’t exactly the white-picket-fence tropical paradise that they had been expecting. A lot can change over six centuries, right? But you don’t go into the longest snooze of your life and wake up expecting to basically lose everything that you came to Andromeda with. For a lot of people, that had been the cold reality of defrosting on the latter end of what had been a difficult decision to leave behind everything they had ever known for a chance to explore another dark mystery of the universe.

She walked into her private quarters, ignoring a small message resounding over her Omni-tool-- Cora, asking her to drop by the Bio lab. It could wait the tension that had built up inside of her bones on the surface of Eos was well soaked away and forgotten. Pathfinding… it was hard work. It was dangerous. Yet, it was far from thankless or boring. Cora was still bitter that she had not inherited the Pathfinder position at the expiration of Sara’s father at what had felt like the very beginning of their journey, and that did not make the air between them easy to breathe. Not only did it make their conversations very awkward, it was a little insulting. What right did Cora have to feel the loss of Alec Ryder more than his own daughter? What right did she have to bring him up every chance she got, like some sort of broken, repeating audio log?  
“Your father represented the spirit of the Andromeda Initiative to many people, Pathfinder.” Ah. There was that familiar voice again, one whom was privy to every thought that passed through her consciousness. The Artificial Intelligence sharing space inside of her skull. Not by choice, but by design of her late father.  
“I know.” Sara’s response was short and blunt. She hadn’t really been looking for his input on her feelings towards Cora. But there he always was, learning, listening, seeing through her eyes and feeling through her body. It was hard to get used to the intrusive feeling of having another entity basically monitoring your every impulse and movement. In a lot of ways, it felt like being imprisoned. Or was that maybe more accurate as to how SAM would feel? The thought was not a comforting one.

Sara stepped into the bathroom adjacent to her pathfinder quarters-- it was small and plain, but it was the only private bathing area on the entire ship, so you certainly wouldn’t hear any complaints. It didn’t take long for the uniform-grade and well worn hoodie and pants to end up in a haphazard pile on the floor, plain black undergarments atop them unceremoniously. The small mirror against the wall was already fogged with condensation, so she took one calloused hand and wiped the warm moisture away.

Somehow, Sara thought, she looked both tired and wired for sound at the same time. Her eyes were so bright that the pink hues within them nearly glowed red, her cheeks flushed, expression sharp. There was the same silver hair that had always been around since the accident, pieces and strands accented with the orange dirt prevalent on the surface of their first outpost. But there were also dark circles under those bright eyes. The bottom of her neck was showing the tail end of a nasty bruise, and the scar running up the left side of her nose and away into her forehead seemed darker and more pronounced than usual.  
“I could probably use another six hundred years of sleep,” Sara grumbled, turning back and forth to stare at herself more intently. Her bare body was lean and defined well enough, if not a little squishier than the necessary standard. Her torso was covered in small bruises and scrapes, nearly camouflaging the three thin scars wrapping up underneath and around her right breast, ending in the center of her sternum. It would be obvious looking at this body that she had not been built for heavy combat, nor had she ever been trained for it. But hey, being a biotic, most of the time you didn’t need to find yourself in the middle of a physical altercation. Unfortunately, Andromeda was a galaxy that had obviously never read the instruction manual on ‘Being Kind To The New Human Inhabitants’. 

Sara stepped into the hot water filling her silver tub and groaned audibly. Her skin stung and then tingled, and she slowly dipped her body into the water, orange and tan grime spreading across the surface as the water lapped it away, like a purification field all in its own.  
“SAM, have there been any updates on my brother?” Sara waited to ask the question until she was well and comfortable, and had hands running a plain bar of soap over her shoulders. Not that… he hadn’t already known that the question was going to be asked. Did the neural connection run deep enough to classify as mind reading, or was there still some level of consent involved?

“I am afraid not, Pathfinder. Scott shows no signs of improvement, but he remains stable.” The answer was quick and concise. There may have even been a hint of sympathy to it, imagined or otherwise. She had to admit, she didn’t well know the emotional range that an AI would be capable of experiencing.  
“I’ve talked to the rest of my team about how they feel about the events of settling our first outpost here in Andromeda,” Sara mused, willing to take her mind away from the catatonic Scott Ryder, and to learn a little about the being she now shared her fleshy vessel with. “What are your thoughts on it, SAM?”

“Eos has been a lesson in contrast. Alec Ryder rarely endured doubt. His accomplishments were taken for granted.” The AI paused for a moment. “But you succeeded on Eos, despite doubt and fear. Emotionally, the difference is like catching a ball versus catching a star. You have grown as a result, and… so have I.” Sara blinked rapidly, hands pausing while working shampoo through her tangled locks. 

“That’s… I’m glad to hear that you feel that way.” That response was lame, but it was all Sara could think of. Her heart squeezed a little, and she let the conversation fade away without any further questions. She felt a little guilty for having pondered at his emotional capabilities earlier. It was just hard to wrap the mind around the concept of a living, sentient, completely artificial lifeform. In a manner of speaking. It was also strange to think that Alec Ryder, the mystery, the enigma, the absent father-- that he could be responsible for creating another life form with any kind of emotional depth to it. Sara allowed a bitter smile to creep to her face as she leaned back, relaxing farther. Scott and she had turned out just fine without him. If only there had been enough time to somehow build a relationship together, something other than that of a squad leader and his cadets.  
No. That was over. That was all over. The only thing to look forward to now was the promise of new worlds, of new friends, of the great unknown. Of seeing Scott, making him proud of the things that his family had accomplished against great adversity while he shook off his interrupted nap. 

And it was all up to her. Somehow. For some unknown, unjustified reason.  
The universe certainly had an interesting sense of humor.


	2. A Fiery Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a daring escape and a flaming crash landing, Pathfinder Sara Ryder finds herself as the diplomat to a new species in the Andromeda galaxy, the Angara, and she is instantly entranced with them. Jaal convinces Evfra that the time is right to take a risk on a new possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD]
> 
> So, this is a very canon-specific chapter, and probably the only one that's going to be this way. It just felt important to me to detail what happened when Ryder and Jaal met, to help set the tone for their interactions in the future. Had you never played the game, you could read this and get an accurate feeling as to what Ryder's first venture onto Aya is like in the game itself, with little deviation from the game's own scripting. From here on out i'll probably be skimming through more major game events and focusing on sub-canon adventures to advance the interactions between our favorite heroine and her squid cat LI.

Confusion. Chaos. Terror. Sara knew she had a ship full of people to protect, but when the Kett face broadcasting over the Tempest’s data channel was staring down at her, she felt like the tiniest amoeba on the most insignificant world in the known universe. Saying that the trip to find the active vault that had shown itself in the mysterious Remnant map on Eos had gone terribly wrong, well, that might just be the understatement of the millennium. And, of course, at the heart of it was Sara Ryder and her ragtag crew.  
“You’re the one in _my_ way. Who are you?”  
Her words as a response to the Kett commander’s barked ultimatum came out as a snarl and sounded much more sure and dangerous than she had ever felt in her lifetime. There was no immediate response. Oh, that was bad.  
“They’ve locked navigation.”  
“We’re being steered into their ship!”  
Shit, shit, shit. _Way to go, you fucking idiot!_ Sara cried to herself in her head, feet bracing against the cold steel of the ship’s bridge.  
“Just tell me what you want!” This time, her words were more of a plea, a bargain. The universe outside echoed into her ears like waves crashing into the broken orifice of a tidal cave and tearing away the fragile structure as they went, red lights flashing out the ends of their lives at the hands of an impossible armada. Shit.  
“I won’t explain what you can’t understand,” uttered the gravelly voice overhead, and everyone on the bridge of the Tempest paused. Sara felt his words like a cool blade sliding down her throat and into the pit of her stomach. They were nothing but cattle to these aliens. The ship was being herded, and here they were, stuck in between an impossible wall and the deadly force that had taken out half of their population upon arrival into Andromeda; the scourge.

“Ryder.” Sara almost didn’t hear the disembodied, mechanical lilt echoing through the rush of blood pounding behind her eardrums. SAM persisted. “I have almost regained control of the ship. I need a few more seconds.”  
Oh, SAM, that beautiful fucking creature.  
“I actually know a lot about the Remnant,” she called upwards, eyes meeting with the blackened, glazed sockets of her adversary. Every breath in the room was held in tight.  
“We should compare notes.” God, she had to be a smart ass, even with the lives of a dozen other people on the line.  
“Enough! Your defiance is naive, and reckless.” Shit. There went that plan. “This day marks the beginning of your greatness.” 

“SAM?” Sara pleaded, walking ahead to the half-oval navigation display linked to the device attached to her left arm. The Kett had cut communications with them, the tractor beam pulling the stealth ship in now without pause.  
“I have mapped a potential route through the scour-”  
“ _Do it!_ ” There was no time for hesitation. There was no time to breathe. It was now, or die. 

The ship rocked back and forth as Kallo, bless his quick-witted piloting skills, took their slim ship through the tightest of corners inside of the unknown and deadly artificial force that sickened the space of the Heleus cluster. Sara held onto the display in front of her, body braced hard against the constant re-adjustment of the gravitational compensators, completely deaf to the cries of the crew from various places behind her. Fire lit up somewhere near the left aft of the ship. Then to the right. They twisted and turned, ducked and flew and dodged until, with a final fiery burst they were reborn into clear, starry skies, and the Pathfinder stumbled backwards away from her haven at the helm, held up only by a supporting elbow from Vetra.  
“Who the hell was that guy!?” Sara breathed, scanning her companions for some clue, some burst of knowledge. No one had time to respond before a panicked voice came over the ship-wide comm channel.  
“Ryder! We’ve got trouble down here. You need to find us a port, _now_!”  
It was Gil, the ship’s chief engineer and experimental mechanic-- not a guy you wanted to ever hear with the tone of freaking-the-fuck-out in his voice. The inward groan amongst the ship’s inhabitants was palpable. Thankfully, they seemed to have ended up at their original destination by some stroke of cosmic luck, and they now had no choice but to go down into the unknown crevices of the world growing larger in the forward display. Swiftly, Kallo took the Tempest down into the atmosphere, as the Pathfinder team stood by, anticipating the worst. 

An unknown voice hailed them, unrecognized by their universal translating devices. Great. Sara felt her heart rise into her mouth.  
“We’re visitors from another galaxy. Our, um…. Our intentions are peaceful.” Had that sounded sincere enough? There was no way to tell. As a navpoint popped up with a small ping on the computer to the right of the main display, the collective blood pressure of the vessel's inhabitants went down by several dozen points. Well… at least this was a good start.

The new world was simply… breathtaking. In an ocean of lava and volcanic activity sat what one could only describe as an Eden, a lush paradise covered in green and vibrant colors and bustling, organized life. The technology was foreign yet it held a certain elegance to its design, with large swooping canopies and smoothed out curves replacing every corner or edge in typical human design. The Tempest descended gently into the heart of the city and nestled onto a large platform, surrounded by her many ‘escorts’ of whatever race was occupying the stunning pathways far below.  
First contact. It was finally here. And it was up to Sara Ryder to somehow not fuck all of it up. 

“Please. You’re not really going out there on your own?” Vetra sounded disappointed and grumpy as Sara made her way towards the hangar bay door.  
“I’m the Pathfinder. First contact is on me.”  
“Most important thing ever. No pressure.” Liam let out a small chuckle, and it warmed Sara’s heart to see that at least someone had a little bit of confidence in her. That made… well, at least one.  
“If this goes badly-- if I get eaten alive-- even if it’s hilarious, please, destroy the vids,” Sara spoke, holding her hands up in a grand ‘I surrender’ kind of gesture. As the doors closed behind her and she descended the ramp down to the pathway below, she hoped to whatever gods were in existence that she hadn’t just correctly predicted what would be waiting in the arms of the aliens below. Humankind was not set to take another failed First Contact like the _first_ one in the Andromeda galaxy, that was for damn sure. 

Her first sight of the new aliens-- the Angara, they called themselves-- was simply amazing. They were bright, pristine, tall and lithe, and very calm and polite… well, considering the circumstances. Most of them kept a fair distance away from her, mumbling back and forth behind raised hands, but one brave soul took from his perch and came forward slowly to eventually stand not an inch away from Sara’s nose, and she found herself unable to catch her breath as they stood less than a foot away from each other. His luminous eyes shone like stirring galaxies, unknown symbols floating by on the flip side of an eye monitor attached to the ridge curling around the crown of his magenta crested head. His lips twitched in irritation, but his tone was one of militant curiosity.  
“Aya is hidden, protected. What do you want?” This alien was polite, but well and to the point, his words sharp and deliberate. Sara found herself looking into his slitted eyes, throat seizing.  
“I-, I apologize. Landing here the way we did, without warning, on fire, was not the plan.” Her voice sounded like a small squeak against the echo of his commanding tenor.  
“That’s good to know. Because if it was, that would be… a very bad plan.” He leaned in even closer, and… was that a grin, a smirk? Her heart unclenched and fluttered, and she was only able to refill her lungs fully when he stepped away, returning to the ranks of the Angaran people. 

 

Ryder was rushed along inside of their compound towards the headquarters of a group called the Resistance, doing her best to ignore the whispered comments and snide remarks barked her way as she followed Paaran Shie (Some kind of governess?) through the crowds of the planet they called Aya. SAM noted an unusual presence of electrostatic energy permeating the physical presence of the inhabitants surrounding them, and Ryder cataloged that information for study at another time. She tried to ask a few questions, and the answers that were provided were generous, given the flaming entrance that the Tempest had made into their isolated oasis. Sara felt a lead weight growing in her belly and she kept her eyes directed at the fine cut stones beneath her, falling quiet until they came to the doors of their destination. The crew had unsurprisingly not been allowed to accompany her on this stroll, as had none of her weapons or armaments, so this was… tense, if nothing else. It was also absolutely thrilling. 

Apparently, someone named Evfra was waiting inside for her, and she passed through the double doors, fingers and toes tingling with anticipation. 

The first Angara she encountered, however, was the one that had so bravely approached her before. She thought she had heard someone earlier refer to him as Jaal.  
“Our experience with the Kett makes us naturally distrustful of all aliens,” he explained, brandishing what appeared to be a Sniper Rifle that was longer than the entirety of his mountainous torso. Sara eyed him, and his adornment, warily.  
“We’re nothing like them. In fact, maybe we can even help each other out.”  
“We made that mistake when the Kett arrived.” More deliberate, sharp, militant words. Sara flinched a little; she wasn’t surprised to see that they were distrustful and closed off, but it was a little disheartening.  
“When the Archon came to Heleus, he demolished our sovereign state, took what he wanted, as if we were nothing,” Jaal continued, his defined lips pursing upwards in a bitter sneer. Was the Archon the Kett that had nearly killed her crew less than an hour past? “Now, the Kett mercilessly abduct Angara-- often, we never see our people again.” Sara felt her mouth fall open slightly, and she looked at her new acquaintance with a heavy heart. Such a large range of emotions had just passed across his features that she had trouble keeping up with it, and felt herself left a little confused and disoriented.  
“Come this way. Evfra’s waiting.”  
And just like that, the spell was broken, and she was taken in to meet the Resistance commander. 

Evfra was a different cup of tea than anyone she had previously encountered, human or otherwise. He somehow made her feel both on edge and at ease, like a child and like a seasoned veteran all in the same breath as they spoke. While most Angara that she had noticed had a warm tint to the skin cresting the ridges on their necks and heads, he was all cool blues and dark scars, with the same penetrating gaze of his nebulous eyes that somehow felt more calculated than the AI tangled into her brain stem. Sara felt as if Evfra both respected and hated her, with a sense of trust that would be more hard earned than any other organic being in the galaxy.  
As they spoke, she could see the halted movements in the step of the grizzled commander and in Jaal who remained just behind her shoulder; she had seen this kind of behavior in her father, Alec, as he lost his funding for his research into SAM while her mother got sicker and sicker, as the day of her eventual death grew ever closer.  
The Angara were desperate, and they were rightly so. There was no way that Sara would be getting into the vault on their planet without doing a few favors for the right people in the right places. It was no surprise that they didn’t want to accept any help-- why would they so instantly trust the word of an alien, especially one claiming to have the ability to fix their problems basically with the snap of a finger? Problems that had been caused by a very similar situation in the past, no less.  
“Evfra. I feel... “ Jaal mumbled suddenly, his hands still clenched to that oddly off putting rifle. “Evfra, what this alien says is extraordinary.” The strange tone of reverence in his voice made Sara’s face fill with heat, and she strained her ears to better hear exactly what he was saying. “The Moshae would want us to be brave, and… not let this chance pass.” Ah, yes, the Moshae... the one that was apparently her only golden ticket into the vault on Aya that her team needed so desperately to breach.  
“Jaal. You talk too much.” It was clear that Evfra was having none of the touchy-feely shit that his comrade seemed eager to express.  
“Evfra, let _me_ assess this alien.” Jaal’s intricate face was lighting up like Christmas-- Ryder could tell that he was suddenly very excited, even with her limited knowledge on Angaran physiology and emotions. The air crackled around them. It was an interesting sensation, and she rubbed her forearms as the hair on them stood up straight. “I’ll be your eyes. I know you can spare me.” The tone was prodding, like a child would be.  
Sara raised her eyebrows and looked back and forth between them, but said nothing.  
“Go if you want." The commander snapped, with very little warning. It would seem that his patience had been spent and he had no further time to waste on the triviality of their interaction. "But when she tries to kill you, be prepared to strike first.” Evfra left them at that very suddenly, and with that, the decision was made and the meeting was adjourned. Jaal turned to Sara and she met his gaze on even ground as best as she could.  
“I’m Jaal Ama Darav,” he rumbled, chest puffed out in the slightest way. “I’ll be your envoy through Angaran space.”  
“Thank you for trusting me,” Sara said in a simple and honest way, tugging the corner of her bottom lip in between her teeth to chew on it. She wasn’t sure why, but she already felt an odd camaraderie with this stranger whom had invited himself onto her ship and into her organization.  
“I don’t.” Jaal said simply, angling his cat-like eyes directly towards hers, head lowering. “But I can always kill you in your sleep.”  
“Good to know…”

And so, together they exited the city and re-boarded the Tempest, neither with any inkling as to what could be awaiting them in the war-torn, bleeding hellscape of the planets and systems beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have a better feel for my Ryder's (unique I hope) personality after this. It felt good to sit and flesh her out a little bit, and to get a feel for the way that Jaal... makes his speech so deliberate and... unf.  
> Countdown to smut... idk, like 3 chapters maybe? Bear with me.  
> Also, come find me on tumblr @ quariancartel because I'd love to have a chat!


	3. The Ice Planet: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission to rescue prisoners on Voeld goes south for our Pathfinder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one deviates a little from the canon events in the game to make room for some blossoming fluff between my Sara and her (future) LI. Enjoy <3

Voeld was a wasteland.  
On this planet, as far as the eye could see and then even farther, there was nothing but the frozen remnants of a world that at one point in its history may have been beautiful and lush; the echoes of oceans pregnant with life swirled across the barren landscape in the form of lashing winds and prickling ice, covering and submerging anything that dared to stand in their wake. The only break in the quiet snowy mountains and deep crevices encaging plains of settling ice were the occasional Angaran encampments (known as Daar, apparently), or the bleeding wounds of the Kett military bases. The Kett hid behind the harsh winds and struck out at the injured and limping Angaran people, and their cries for help could be felt in the bitter cold air with every breath and every step.

“Ryder… are you sure you’re going the right way?”  
Jaal’s voice was lost amongst the sounds of the shock absorbers in the Nomad working over time as the six wheeled all-terrain rover bounded across the snowy hills of the ice planet, headed towards their newest destination, a camp of prisoners they had been tasked to liberate. Vetra, sitting in the seat parallel to Jaal and directly behind Sara, had nothing to say as her arms remained crossed tightly over her chest. The Tempest had been grounded on Voeld for what felt like months, years even, but in reality had only been just over two weeks; the Angara here still looked at Sara with shifted eyes and pursed lips every time she walked into one of their encampments, their fingers toying with the safety switches at the triggers of their weapons. Frankly, it was beginning to draw on the Pathfinder’s short reserve of patience. _How can you even tell them apart? It has a name? Why doesn’t it just leave? We don’t want your help. Just leave us alone._  
Sara let out a small sigh, and wondered if maybe her father would be handling this situation faster and much better than she had.

“Something troubles you, Pathfinder Ryder.” Jaal’s modulated tenor came from behind her right shoulder.  
“Well…” She hesitated to speak her mind, a habit that she was quickly having to overcome as the Angara became a more permanent part of the Initiative’s day-to-day life. This new species was always quick to tell you exactly what they thought and felt about you, even if it was unpleasant or rude. 

“My job can be a little overwhelming,” she started, squinting her eyes to see through the blizzard lashing against the Nomad’s tempered windshield. “I guess that, like, maybe a thank you every now and then would be nice. I get shot at almost daily trying to run tasks on this freezing cold planet for pretty much nothin-”  
“They never asked for you to help them, I must remind you.” Jaal said in a matter-of-fact tone. Sara felt an icy prick in the pit of her stomach. “The Anagaran people… we have lost almost everything to the Kett. They abduct our people, terrorize us, take our worlds and our lives with no remorse. In fact, they believe that they do us a favor when they destroy what little culture and society that we have left.” He paused, his glimmering eyes shifting downwards; one large gloved hand came to rest on her forearm, and Sara felt every muscle in her body tense. The skin beneath the layers of fabric and armor tingled with the slightest electric current.  
“I believe, however… that we need you, Ryder.” Jaal’s voice was sincere and nearly broken with a raw undercurrent of emotion. “One of the few things that we have left is our pride, as a people. It will take time. But the Angara will come around when they see the good that you do. Just be patient.” 

The cab fell silent then, with nothing but the biting winds and the sound of Vetra’s nails clacking impatiently against the aluminum interior to keep the small squad company. On the crest of the hill ahead the skeleton of a Kett compound came into view, glowing orange containers housing blurry figures and the Chosen patrolling every walkway and every container. Sara swerved the Nomad behind a giant bank of hardened ice, on top of which snow had accumulated into a small drift that partially sheltered them from the brutal and unforgiving weather.  
“Finally,” Vetra grumbled, her fingers twitching towards her modified Cyclone assault rifle, pulling the monstrous weapon closer to her body. Sara pivoted in her seat, pulling her helmet over her head and waiting to hear the hiss of the pistons sliding together and locking before she used a palm to push open the scissor-style rover door outwards.  
“Try to remember,” the Pathfinder spoke into her communicator, the entire team recoiling from the harsh exhale of Voeld’s icy winds, “stay together, and no one tries to be a hero.” Thankfully, with Vetra and Jaal specifically, trying to be heroic was less of a problem than it had been with certain other team members. “Rescue the prisoners, but don’t expose them to danger. If they want weapons, give them your backup pistol or point them to a fresh Kett corpse.” The trio removed themselves from the Nomad and planted themselves down into the snow. The viewfinder at the crest of Sara’s helmet almost instantly began to freeze over, and she scrubbed at it with the back of one hand with irritation. 

“Jaal, keep an eye out for Niilj. We need to make sure he understands that we’re here to help, not to cause more trouble for him and his group.”  
“Of course, Pathfinder.”  
“Last but not least, remember to stay close to the sunlamps that the Kett have set up around their camp, most likely stolen or repurposed from the Angara. Vetra, you and I only have about 3 minutes of life support with direct exposure to this kind of environment.” For a moment, Sara thought back to her first venture here in Andromeda-- on Habitat 7, blasted off of the side of a mountain, tumbling haphazardly down the hill and feeling the glass spray her face as a rock smashed her visor beyond what her omni-tool could possibly repair. Her lungs had burned and seized as they tried to pull in oxygen and failed; she remembered her last blurry vision of her father’s panicked eyes, the world slowly going black, and then the fiery pain of her SAM implant expanding into the back of her skull….  
“Ryder?” Sara blinked as a voice pierced through her reverie and she realized that Jaal and Vetra were still standing there in front of her, both poised with their ridiculously large weapons and already beginning to shiver uncontrollably.  
“Right. Sorry. Let’s kill some fucking Kett.” 

They rushed the compound as a well-oiled, concentrated strike team. Vetra took up the lead of the group, her hardened armor a valuable shield defense against the plinking away from the scout Kett that spotted them as they came up the side of a steeper snow drift and tucked away behind the storage containers stacked on the west end of the facility. The holographic cages holding the Angaran prisoners were scattered about the camp in seemingly random locations; in fact, they seemed to have caught them in the middle of packing up to leave, as there were several shuttles docked at the back of the structure, and most of the main force had been carrying small crates back and forth or disassembling the turrets at the top of the central building. 

The group split into a trident of destructive force. Vetra unloaded nearly a full clip of bullets into a cluster of Chosen ahead of her that were being led on a task by a single Anointed Warrior; he attempted to throw up his kinetic barrier but it was a moment too late, as the fluttering glimpse of a light blue cloak embraced him from behind and his chest exploded outwards, muddy green blood dripping from the tip of Jaal’s transparent blade.  
Sara followed in the destructive wake of her companions, pulling biotic power to the tips of her fingers in preparation. She slid her body around the Kett’s containers with lithe precision, occasionally stopping to throw out a blast of energy or to clench a biotic vise around an unsuspecting enemy’s neck. Occasionally a bullet would slide past her shield and bounce off of the smooth surface of her ceramic bodysuit armor, but for the most part she managed to keep herself both protected and hidden. The Pathfinder found one containment cell after another, making sure to clear the immediate area of Kett before releasing the Angara inside with a simple hack on the console via SAM; these were obviously all variably seasoned warriors being held here, as they all would give her a quick nod or grunt of thanks before grabbing the nearest discarded weapon and jumping back into the frayed distraction without even the slightest hint of hesitation or fear. 

The battle raged and Sara brought herself closer to the center of the fray; her body glowed with a protective biotic barrier as she picked off various outliers with her trusted, Initiative standard assault rifle. Vetra and Jaal were both nowhere to be seen, but a firefight could be heard at the distant end of the complex’s main building that suggested they were still neck-deep in their own problems. The smell of gunpowder and spilled blood filled the air, the snow gently drifting down onto the complex pathways littered with various hues of green and blue, strangely beautiful and striking against the normally pale and muted landscape. Sara stopped for a moment and kneeled down behind a small, convex barrier, soaking up the warmth from a nearby sunlamp. Her fingers and toes had long since gone numb even with the constantly rushing adrenaline pounding through every blood vessel.

“Pathfinder, I detect a Kett presence nearby.”  
Sara peeked her head over the barrier, scanning her surroundings. Everything within the closest 50 or 60 yards was still and quiet, with only the hum of the nearby lamp and recently vacated containment cell to permeate the deceptive landscape.  
“Pathfinder--”  
Something heavy pushed against her left shoulder, a separate force grabbing her by the forearm and twisting it backwards in a jarring and harsh movement. At first she felt the hollow pain of the ball joint in her shoulder straining against the tendons attempting to hold it into place; but soon the feeling of the piece of fitted armor over her forearm crushing down into the flesh and bone outweighed any other pains, and her mouth fell open in a high-pitched screech as she awkwardly collapsed backwards against her captor.  
The Wraith stood over her and panted, a low, multi-chambered growl coming from deep within its armored chest. A slow drip of azure blood pooled at the grooved chamber of its bony chin just below rows and rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth; the hollow dips where the creature should have had eyes were collecting flakes of snow as the blizzard flurried about them. She saw her death reflected in its primal aggressiveness and her heart rate skyrocketed.  
“SAM… I need my omni-blade,” Sara wheezed, her own panting breath and singing blood in her ears drowning out all other sound from her communicator. Was the fire fight still going on, or had her companions taken care of most of the leftover forces with the help of the freed Resistance fighters?  
“That part of your armor has been damaged, Pathfinder. You are losing life support. I recommend taking immediate shelter.” Her eyes flickered downward to her left arm. The armor was crushed and warped inward against her, wiring spilling out of the edges and sending off various sparks and whining sounds. Bits and pieces of the holographic screen from her omni-tool flickered into life and then died out again, repeatedly failing and re-attempting to initialize.  
The Wraith dipped its head towards its new afternoon snack, powerful jaws closing in over the lower half of the Pathfinder’s helmet and the soft leather that covered the area at the top of her neck; she desperately bashed the side of its head with the butt of her gun, legs kicking upwards into the animal’s soft underbelly, biotic powers surging almost out of control as she panicked and lost the concentration needed to properly control the L5 implant. There was a sharp, high pitched straining sound and a large crack spread its way across the front of Sara’s helmet, the inside of the micro-crevice already beginning to freeze and become more brittle-- a piercing pain came to the side of her neck as one angled tooth broke past the inner lining of her suit and sank into the soft flesh there--  
And half a second later she was suddenly freed from the hard weight of the Kett creature. Its body flew backwards in an almost comical fashion, hitting the hard edge of a nearby barricade with force, a brand new gaping wound in the center of its forehead still steaming with the heat of the bullet’s entry into its heavily armored brow. Sara raised herself up onto her elbows, realizing that each breath felt like liquid ice entering and burning the soft buds on the insides of her lungs. SAM was oddly quiet. 

“Ryder! Shit, Ryder, are you okay?” Vetra’s panicked voice could be heard clearly through the suit’s communicator. Her long and lean arms slid underneath the Pathfinder and she braced them both against the nearby wall, pulling them in as close to the nearby sunlamp as possible. Sara flailed briefly against her touch, having no visibility through her damaged and iced-over visor. 

Nearby, the liberated Resistance fighters gathered at the center of the compound that they had been held hostage at. Several of them had new wounds, a bullet in an arm here or a gash across the chest there-- but miraculously, they had all survived and would be heading directly to their next objective as soon as possible. Jaal attempted to get them to at least stop in at Techiix, but he was met only with professional decline.  
“Pass our thanks along to the Pathfinder,” Niilj said to his fellow Angara, placing one heavy hand onto Jaal’s shoulder, then crossing their forearms together in the customary greeting. “We are extremely grateful for what this team has done for us here today. I fear that we were not long for Voeld; perhaps even just one more day, and we were to be moved elsewhere to meet an undetermined fate.” Jaal felt a cold finger run down his spine that had nothing to do with the blizzard they currently cowered away from; what could the Kett possibly be doing to his people? Why would they be doing something like this? Every day only seemed to bring more questions without the sweet relief of any vital answers. He sighed deeply and dipped his head.  
“Very well, Niilj. I will report to Evfra what has happened here today. Perhaps he will finally see Ryder in a more trustworthy light.”  
“Can we truly trust these _vesagara_ , my friend? I have my reservations, as do many others, I assume. They only help us to advance their own interests.” Jaal bristled, his pupils narrowing as he lowered a sharp gaze unto his college. The rescued Anagra shifted uncomfortably, immediately aware of his offense. “ _She_ is well on track to help us do things that we… obviously cannot accomplish easily on our own. I am astonished that you can still speak ill of a woman that is responsible for your feet now being on open ground instead of on the way to Gods know where with the Kett…” his low voice trailed off, catching the tail end of Vetra’s panicked voice in the hum of his communicator. He immediately turned away without ceremony, tucking away the data pad that Niilj had passed him earlier into a side pocket of his Rofjiin. The Resistance fighters watched him only for a moment as he padded away into the snow storm, turning then to go back to their own business in the Voeld wasteland. 

The party of three reunited near the center of the complex; Vetra carried Ryder with some difficulty in her arms as she took long bounds forward, repeatedly whispering various obscenities under her labored breath. Jaal came around a corner and nearly collided with the two of them, holding out his hands to catch his Turian college and assess the situation.  
“What happened?” He snapped, suddenly all business. There was an ooze of blood going down the left side of the Pathfinder’s uniform, frozen against the smooth armor and pooling at the top crease of her neck; Sara also seemed to have her left arm tucked in tightly against the center of her body, and she writhed, in too much pain to even be properly aware of her surroundings.  
“I have managed to contain the breaches to the life support in her suit,” came SAM’s voice across their ears, although it sounded almost… hesitant, or sad? “But it will only hold for a few minutes. I also recommend seeking immediate medical care, as the bone in her arm is fractured.”  
“[Shit],” Vetra grumbled again, shaking her head. She could just see the nose of the Nomad still parked behind the small natural wall of ice just outside of the Kett camp.  
“Here.” Jaal tucked his modified sniper rifle securely over one shoulder and he held out his arms towards Vetra, leaning down as she got the message and slid the Pathfinder towards him, audibly sighing at the relief from the strain on her joints. “You can drive the rover vehicle much better than I can. I will care for her, and SAM can direct us towards Techiix. It is a large Daar located not far from here where she can receive temporary medical care and be stabilized enough to be taken back to the Tempest. SAM, I am sending you the navpoint now.” 

They hurried together towards their awaiting vehicle, Vetra panting with slight panic, Jaal clutching Sara close to his chest, attempting to keep her as warm as possible. 

Sara tucked herself against the tall and bulky body almost like a child and softly whined against the inside of her helmet, body on fire and head dizzy and thick with lack of proper oxygen. Her arm was beginning to swell against the collapsing pieces of the forearm armor, crushed by the Wraith’s teeth; the pain was there, but it was almost as if it waited for her at the end of a very long tunnel, almost as if it were happening to someone else and she was only a spectator observing the carnage. She chuckled slightly at that thought. And just as the air was warming up, she felt her consciousness begin to dip in and out of existence, her last solid recollection one of a light blue, silky material draped across her shattered visor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~ I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It's rather large so I decided to split it into 2 parts, also so I could have a bit of a cliffhanger. ;3


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